【Purple】 an Ib Fanfiction
by musapan
Summary: Taking place four years after the 'True Ending', Ib and Garry find themselves again wrapped up in a twisted world of Guertena's creation. The truth behind their horrifying experience at the museum comes to light, and Ib and Garry must brave all odds and hold faith in one another in order to get out alive.
1. Chapter 1: Red & Blue

_Author's Notes: _

_This Ib fanfiction is based on the ending "__**Promise of Reunion**_"_, taking place four years after._

_Thank you for reading. _**(****｡◕‿◕｡****)**

_Ib (game) and its characters © Kouri_

_Music © YASU _

_Art © me_

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Red and Blue_

"Hey, Ib, don't hog those! If you eat them all, you'll get a stomach ache," Garry reminded, grabbing one of the small cakes from the tray. Ib had been helping herself quite generously.

"You're already a grown-up, you don't need sweets to make you bigger. I'm still growing," Ib stated matter-of-factly, still munching on a bite of cake.

"But I paid for them!" Garry pointed out. Ib swung her legs on the fancy white brass stool she was seated on. "Eat faster, then," she replied simply. Garry laughed at Ib's bold statement and quickly snatched another cake, shoving it all into his mouth at once. Ib giggled madly at the absurd sight.

The two people seated outside the dessert shop seemed like an odd couple, surely. Even if one assumed they were siblings, they still looked mismatched. A strange violet-haired young man with a long, tattered dark coat sitting with a nicely dressed thirteen-year old girl no doubt perked some brows, but neither Garry nor Ib cared in the least how they may have looked to others. For four years these two had become the closest of friends, and were nearly inseparable.

Their friendship began after a fateful trip to an art exhibit four years prior, where the two of them had landed in a strange, twisted version of the museum that by all accounts should have killed them both. But they had found strength in each other and managed to get back to their own world, and better yet, had remembered each other despite the fact that the incident had been buried deep within the confines of their minds.

Mere days after they parted ways at the museum, Garry had appeared on Ib's doorstep to give her back her handkerchief and take her to buy the promised Macaroons. Although initially Ib's mother and father had been apprehensive about the unusual eighteen-year old that had befriended their daughter, soon they accepted Garry as Ib's unofficial big brother, and he was just as welcome in their home as any member of the family.

More than anything, Ib and Garry took comfort in one another. The dark, haphazard cluster of memories they still maintained from the world of Guertena's creations were so unreal and hazy, if it weren't for the other, they would have forgotten them long ago. Some would argue that it would be best to forget something so frightening and emotionally painful, but both Ib and Garry were certain that the events were important, and had become a part of them. They took refuge in the fact that they could share the memories with each other, or call each other if they had nightmares. Braving those memories alone, or forgetting them altogether, were sad possibilities that neither one of them wished to undergo.

Simply put, they were glad of each other.

"Nn... My stomach hurts," Ib whimpered, setting down her tea. Garry smiled sadly and shook his head. "Didn't I tell you? Too much cake. And I'm sure all the tea didn't help, either."

"Can we go to 'that' place?" Ib asked, still holding her stomach.

"Now?" Garry asked in mild surprise, scratching the back of his head and surveying the sky for a moment. "The sun will be down soon. I don't want to take you home too late," he said.

"We don't have to stay long. Mama and papa won't mind, I wanted to make sure to go there with you today!" Ib pleaded. She shamelessly gave Garry the sad puppy-dog eyes that she knew he couldn't refuse. Garry smiled and sighed in defeat. "I suppose that since you have a tummy-ache, I'll be carrying you there?"

* * *

He did, in fact, carry Ib to 'that' place. Piggyback, to be exact. He set her down when they arrived on a vast, grassy hill; the sun was setting low in the sky, and it left streaks of orange and red on the calm ocean that lay just beyond the hill.

A cool breeze blew over them, making the grass sway and whistle and causing Ib to shiver. "Perfect timing," Garry noted, sitting just at the peak of the hill, with the best view of the ocean. Ib nodded in agreement and followed his lead, sitting just in front of him. Garry moved his legs to make room for her small form, allowing her to sit between his thighs and lean against his chest. Ib liked this best of all; those silent moments where the two of them could be together, without worrying about what others might think or say. She knew this wasn't entirely normal... So did Garry. But something stronger than conventional normalities bound these two to each other, and neither of them dared question it.

Garry took off his coat and draped it over them both, finding the breeze to be a bit too cold on this side of the hill. Ib gratefully wrapped herself in it. For such an old coat, it was still very warm.

"I had that dream again," Ib said softly, her eyes fixed on the orange, watercolor sunset that was draped over the sky.

Garry frowned. "The 'portrait' dream?" he asked her worriedly. Ib nodded.

"It was the same as all the others. I was stuck in that stuffy, horrible picture frame, and I couldn't move. People were walking around in front of me, stopping to stare at me, and then leaving. I was trying to break free, trying to say something to them, but I just couldn't." Ib fell silent. "It was just like all the others," she repeated, more softly. Her voice held more frustration than fear. Still, Garry was worried. "After four years, we're still having nightmares. It makes sense, but I still really wish they would stop. Especially for you," he said, smoothing down some of Ib's hair in the back.

Ib smiled a little. "I don't know if I would call it a nightmare," she said, her smile disappearing. There was silence between them for a moment, the only sound being the whistling of the wind and the faint splash of the ocean hitting the shore.

"Garry... Do you think... Maybe... That's what Mary felt like?" Ib asked quietly, holding the coat more tightly around herself. Garry rested his forehead against the top of Ib's head.

"It crossed my mind once or twice," he sighed. Another silence. Speaking of Mary, their ill-fated friend whom they had been forced to destroy, usually left the companions with a bitter taste in their mouths. Garry hugged Ib abruptly, snapping the little girl out of her reprieve.

"It wasn't your fault," Garry said seriously, "or mine, for that matter. Mary brought it on herself. If these dreams are just your mind punishing you for what happened, well... I won't stand for it. We had no choice but to do what we did back then. You know that, right?"

Ib smiled faintly and nodded. "I know that. Don't worry, I'm not 'punishing' myself. At least, I'm trying not to."

Garry smiled, jostling the little girl from side to side in the embrace, causing her to laugh. "Good. Enough sad talk. Let's sing a song!"

"Noooo, Garry, I don't want to sing!"

"Come on, it will make you feel better!"

"Noooooooo~ It's embarrassing!"

* * *

The sun had set in the sky, and Garry hoped he wasn't returning Ib home too late for her parents' liking. They strolled up the walkway together, and Ib found the front door unlocked. Hoping to sneak in without too much of a fuss, Ib and Garry said their goodnights and parted ways.

Closing the front door softly, Ib began snaking her way stealthily through the entrance room, doing her best to avoid her father, who would normally be reading the newspaper in the parlor by this time. But she didn't hear the rustling of paper, nor did she hear the voices of her parents. Ib relaxed, realizing her parents weren't downstairs. But where were they?

Walking into the kitchen, Ib poured herself a glass of cool water. The silence in the house was almost eerie, and she found the lack of sound or activity strange. It was dark outside, but it was still early, and she knew that there was no way her parents would have gone to bed without seeing her safe at home. Sipping her water, Ib began to climb the main staircase to look for her parents upstairs and let them know she was home.

The house was dark; a certain uneasiness hung in the air, and although she couldn't figure out why, she found herself concerned.

As she climbed the stairs, she passed a large painting that had been hanging in the stairwell for as long as she could remember, a painting simply titled "Self-Portrait". It was a painting of a solemn-looking man, intimidating but handsome, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with intensity. It was a piece that always mystified Ib, but she could never remember when it appeared in the house.

As she climbed the stairs, she avoided eye-contact with the portrait. She could never shake the feeling that it was watching her. And after her terrifying experience four years ago, she'd found she'd had quite enough of creepy paintings.

Ib reached the top of the stairs, looking around. It was just as quiet up here as it had been downstairs. "Mommy? Dad?" she called, but only more silence answered her. For a wild moment Ib felt the urge to flee and get Garry before he got too far away, but she steeled herself. She reminded herself that fears were all in her head, and continued to listen for her parents.

_THUNK_.

Despite herself, Ib jumped at the sound. It was coming from her parents bedroom, and it sounded distinctly like hollow wood smacking the wall. Ib remembered that her parents sometimes had what adults called, "Private Time", and wondered if this was one such case, and had almost decided to leave them alone... But there was something wrong in the house, she felt it, and she felt new worry for her parents. "MOM! DAD! I'm..." here, her voice cracked and almost failed her, "I'M HOME! Are you here?" More silence. And then,

_THUNK. THUNK_.

Ib felt her blood go chilly. Shaking it off, Ib made a frustrated sound and willed her feet to move. A rushing sound in her ears, Ib boldly strode down the hallway and approached her parents bedroom door.

_THUNKCLINK. THUNK THUNK_.

Her stomach in knots, Ib through the door open. What she saw, she hadn't been prepared for.

Ib's parents hung from the ceiling, their limbs tangled in rope and clinking against one another clumsily. The poorly lit room barely illuminated their limp forms, but Ib could make out their blank, soulless expressions, glazed over as if they were dolls. In fact, it appeared they _were _dolls... Marionettes, to be exact, life-size puppets of her parents, perfect down to the last detail. Their mouths were wide open and slack, exposing wooden throats. Their eyes were shiny and made of wood as well, as was the rest of them, down to their hair and their clothes, and their jointed arms and legs. Ropes bound them to the ceiling, where they appeared to be moving as if being rustled by an unseen breeze.

Ib's mouth opened but nothing came out. Unable to pry her eyes from the horrifying sight, Ib could only shake and stare until the marionette of her mother moved suddenly and violently, and then turned its head towards Ib in a swift, creaking motion.

Ib found her voice, and let loose a scream that broke the horrible silence. Backing into the hallway, the little girl tumbled over herself and fell. Now blind with terror, Ib pulled herself up and took off down the hallway and practically flew down the stairs, the rushing sound in her ears louder than ever.

In her blind haste, Ib tripped on the last step, tumbling head-over-heels and landing against the wall next to the front door. Dazed and filled with terror, Ib found she couldn't move. Her eyes were playing tricks on her now, the staircase swimming in her vision, dark shapes seemingly dancing across the landing. She could faintly hear the dull _thunk-_ing sounds of her wooden parents running into one another upstairs.

"IB! Ib, what's going on, where are you?!" Garry's voice broke the hallucinations Ib was seeing, and she realized that he had burst through the front door and was now looking around the entrance room frantically. He hadn't seen her as he came in; the house was too dark, and she was sitting just next to the door. She wanted to say something to him, but her mouth simply wouldn't work, and her voice seemed stuck in her throat. Thankfully, Garry turned and spotted her; he was in front of her in an instant, his expression etched with worry.

"Ib! What's wrong, are you okay? Ib, can you speak? What happened?" He was checking her all over, but still Ib couldn't find her voice. She tried and failed three times to swallow, but just continued to shake. She managed to lift her arm and point towards the stairs. Garry followed her finger, and then looked back at her seriously.

"You stay here. Don't move." Ib couldn't have even if she had wanted to. Garry was on the stairs in a second, and once on the landing, he followed Ib's panic-stricken eyes to the right, to the bedroom.

In another second, Garry was briskly advancing the stairs again, pale-faced. Once down the stairs he scooped up Ib bridal-style without a word and left through the front door, closing it firmly behind them.

Something snapped in Ib as they were leaving the house; she realized that they were leaving her parents behind. Tears clouded her vision, and she grabbed Garry's shoulder. "My- My parents, we have to go back- We can't leave them, we have to go back!"

"Ib, those weren't your parents," Garry said seriously, not breaking his stride. His current goal was to put as much distance between themselves and the house as humanly possible, as soon as possible. Ib's body shook, and she buried her face in her hands. "W-What's going on..." she sobbed.

"I don't know, Ib. But there's no way those were your parents. Please, please don't cry... We can't panic yet, we have to figure out what to do next, and where your real parents might be." Garry answered, continuing to walk. Ib sniffed, trying her best to gather her courage and calm herself. Wiping her tears, she took a deep breath. "How did you know I needed you?" she asked quietly.

"I heard you scream. Before that, I had stopped because I heard a strange noise around the house, and I was investigating, I guess. But it was when you screamed that I came rushing in. I'm glad I heard that noise."

Garry stopped walking rather suddenly, looking around them with a troubled expression. Ib looked up at him.

"What is it?"

"It's not very late," Garry remarked. Ib could hear his heart beating fast. "So... Where is everyone?" he added.

Ib looked around them as well. They were standing in the middle of a street that was normally decently busy at this hour, filled with people returning home from work, or preparing for a night on the town. But there were no cars, no people walking up and down the strip, nobody visiting the shops... There was no one.

A lone street light blinked on and off above them, illuminating the only two people left as the town continued to grow darker.


	2. Chapter 2: The True World

**CHAPTER TWO**

_The True World_

In their fear, they had barely noticed that they hadn't seen a single other person outside since they left Ib's house.

Ib had time to calm down, and now walked with Garry, clutching his arm. The two of them had no idea where to go or what to do; they wanted to rest and try and figure out what was happening, but going to Ib's house was no longer an option. Ib and Garry walked around for the better part of an hour, trying to find another living soul, to no avail. The shops were closed, the streets abandoned, the houses dark and lifeless. They decidedly hurried to Garry's apartment building, which was across town, but without having to deal with traffic or other people, they arrived surprisingly fast. The building was just as abandoned as the rest of town.

Garry's apartment was cold. It was usually warm, but the severe lack of humans also meant that the power in the building was off. Garry pulled all of his blankets out of the closets, and lit the stove with a match. He put some earl grey tea on, and sat down with Ib as she was getting herself under some blankets.

"All right," Garry started, trying hard to think. "Someone, or something, replaced your parents with... Well, wooden replicas, and suddenly this is a ghost town, if you'll forgive the term. I can't make heads or tails of this," he admitted. Ib hugged her knees under the blanket.

"I didn't realize it at the time, but I don't remember seeing anyone on the way back to my house. I was too tired." she said.

"Same," Garry said regretfully.

The two people sat silently in the apartment, both equally troubled and lost for a solution to their problem.

"What do we do now, Garry...?" Ib asked quietly, in a voice that nearly broke Garry's heart. Despite their seemingly grim situation, Garry smiled at Ib brightly. "I'm not sure... But we're together. We'll figure it out, I promise. We can rest tonight, and I bet everything will seem a lot more clear in the morning." he said with resolve. Ib offered him a small smile in return. "Okay."

Garry served some warm tea, and the two drank it gratefully. When Ib found her eyelids had become so heavy she couldn't keep them open, Garry suggested they rest. He offered Ib his bed and had decided to sleep on the floor, but Ib wasn't having it. Although Garry (rather red-faced) resisted initially, Ib finally convinced him to sleep next to her. Garry knew that no matter how brave Ib happened to be, no thirteen-year old would have wanted to sleep alone after the sights she had just endured.

"Are we really... The only ones left?" Ib sleepily asked as she began to drift into unconsciousness. Garry held her more closely; she could hear the comforting sound of his heart beating. "I don't know," Garry answered honestly. Ib's voice was faint. "... Don't... Disappear..." she said just as she relented to sleep.

The silence over the room hung in the air like a thick fog; Garry had never known a room to be so silent. The girl sleeping in his arms looked peaceful but sad, and her desperate request shook Garry to the core.

He had never felt so helpless before, or so filled with desire to protect someone. But could he really prevent something horrible from happening? He wasn't even sure what was happening himself. It appeared that everyone in town had disappeared... What was to stop Garry from disappearing, and leaving Ib all alone? Or worse, what if Ib vanished as well? Garry shut his eyes, holding onto Ib more tightly than before, as if his arms could prevent such a horror from occurring.

No, he had to stay positive. These thoughts weren't going to help either one of them. From the moment he had first met Ib in the museum, he knew he wanted to protect her. And he was determined to do just that, no matter what.

With this thought, Garry drifted off to sleep. With the last person in town asleep, the town was more quiet than it had ever been.

* * *

Ib was the first to awaken. She immediately looked for Garry, and let out a sigh of relief when she saw he was still with her, fast asleep. She had half-expected both of them to have vanished in the night, but she wasn't quite certain if that would have been a bad thing or not. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Ib shook Garry awake.

"Oh good," Garry said sleepily with a relieved smile, "you're still here. I was afraid you'd be gone. But it appears we're both still here, aren't we?."

Ib laughed. "I thought the same thing." she admitted.

Ib made her way off of the bed and opted to use Garry's facilities, to freshen up for whatever the day had in store. When she exited the bathroom, she saw Garry standing in front of the window with a look of intrigue. "What is it?" she asked him.

"It's just... Look. Do you see the morning light coming through the window? Do you see the buildings across the street?" he said, still looking out the window. Ib tilted her head and walked over to the window. "Yes."

"Look," Garry grabbed Ib's hand and placed it on the window. Ib didn't react at first, but slowly she realized what she felt; canvas. The window was made of canvas. The window was a painting, and it was so real and perfect that Ib could swear she saw the trees rustling in the breeze, and the rays of the morning sun passing through the panes and warming her face.

Garry touched the painting again as well. "I can't believe it... This has most certainly been a window, a real window, the entire time I've been living here. It could open and everything. How could..." he trailed off, at a loss for words. Ib frowned. "We should see what outside is like," she suggested.

Ib turned to head for the door, and almost ran headlong into a small table that had spontaneously appeared just behind them. Perched on the table was a vase with two roses inside; a red rose, and a blue rose.

The company stared at the table for a silent moment, filled with dread. "Is... That...?" came Garry's voice hesitantly. Ib carefully removed both roses from the vase, and extended the blue rose toward Garry. She sighed. "We'd better take these with us, I suppose."

With their roses, Ib and Garry exited the apartment building. What they saw, at this point, didn't entirely surprise them. The world had turned into a painting. The streetlights were merely 3-dimensional paintings, their fake lights blinking on and off again. The streets were crafted out of some sort of clay, and the houses that stood were just canvas with beautifully detailed house decor painted on. The trees were even painted, and they rustled quietly in the artificial breeze. The morning sky really _was _watercolor, painted with an array of gorgeous pastel shades. It was all very beautiful and awe-inspiring, to be sure, but Ib and Garry grew more worried by the minute.

"It seems we're in that fabricated world again, but it looks like our town." Garry said thoughtfully, kneeling down to touch a painted flower growing outside of someone's painted lawn. "The first time it looked like the museum, but this time it's... Everywhere. I haven't the slightest idea what's going on."

"Me either," Ib sighed. "But we have our roses again, so I suppose the same rules apply. But is this actually our world? The first time, we got in through a painting, 'Abyss of the Deep'. This time, it just sort of happened."

"I'm not sure," Garry said, shaking his head. He stood and took Ib's hand firmly in his own. "But let's find a way out. We got out the first time, we can get out again."

As the two of them walked, they couldn't help but be impressed by their detailed surroundings. From a distance, everything looked very much the same, it was just the atmosphere that had changed. But up close, the paintings, sculptures and creations that made up the world proved everything to be fake, no matter how detailed they were. They even passed their favorite dessert shop, and were surprised to find that they were able to open the door and enter. Their disappointment was unparalleled when they found that even the sweets and pastries were fakes, made of wax.

The two wandered aimlessly for the better part of the day. Ib's stomach was rumbling horribly, and Garry ignored his own protesting stomach to give Ib a piggyback ride so she could rest. Garry had the idea to head to the edge of town, to see just how far this distortion had spread, so they set off immediately. As the watercolor sky was darkening, they finally found themselves at the town's end, which was impassable due to a massive canvas blocking their way and stretching up into the sky. It seemed to block off all exits to town. Garry tried several times to break it or tear it; after some time, the effort proved useless. It seemed they were trapped in this strange world that had once been their town.

Exhausted and hungry, the two headed back. They decided that if this world was anything like the previous distorted world they had visited, there should be a painting to lead them back to their own world. They resolved to start searching houses and buildings for such a painting.

Ib's stomach growled again, and Garry glanced down at her with a sad frown. "How are you feeling? Do you need to rest?" he asked her worriedly. Ib flashed him an encouraging smile. "No, I'm fine."

Garry wasn't convinced, but he smiled back anyway. They continued down the street together, the street lights still flickering above them.

"At least we haven't run into any unpleasant statues, or had to run for our lives. It appears we're alone here." Garry commented, and Ib nodded.

"I don't think I'd have the energy to run for my life at the moment," she said with a laugh. Garry inwardly agreed.

"There's my apartment. I say we take a break there. We may even find some food in my apartment, that is, if they haven't already become wax. How is your rose?"

"Fine," Ib said, regarding her rose for a moment to check for signs of wilting. "I hope we find some food, though."

"Me t-" Garry's voice cut off suddenly, and Ib looked up from her rose. She gasped. They were now in Ib's entrance room, as if by magic. The two of them blinked confusedly for a moment. "Wha... What!" Garry exclaimed, pulling Ib closer to him protectively. "How did we get here?!"

Ib's heart thumped in her chest, but she took a deep breath and reminded herself that the eerie mannequins she had seen upstairs were not her parents, they were just twisted creations, just like the Lady in Red portraits and the headless women that had given them such trouble four years ago.

"We should look around for clues, while we're here." Ib suggested, and Garry looked down at her seriously. "Ib... I don't think that's safe."

"It will be okay. I know that those... Things... Up there, aren't my parents. This world is fake, just like the last one. But we should still check around." Ib answered calmly, and Garry sighed.

"I guess we should. But stay close to me, and don't let go of my hand." he instructed, and Ib nodded.

Ib glanced up the stairway and frowned. "Hey..." She pointed with her free hand at the painting that hung in the stairwell, 'Self-Portrait'. The frame was empty.

"That's worth investigating," Garry said uneasily, and the two climbed the stairs carefully to inspect the painting. Ib looked at it closely; it was exactly the same as before, just without its usual resident. Garry touched the painting experimentally, and to their mutual surprise, his hand went into the painting.

"Ib, look! This might be the way out!" Garry said, pulling his hand back out. Ib nodded. "But why would it be _this _painting? 'Self-Portrait'? Shouldn't it be a painting of our own world?" she asked. Garry regarded the painting. "I guess you're right," he admitted, "but this world is very different from that first one. This may be a gateway into your real house, in our real world."

He pondered for another moment. "Ah! I have it. I'll test it out, and make sure it's safe. You keep a hold of my hand, just in case I need to pull you in, or you need to pull me out."

"Are you sure?" Ib asked in concern. She didn't much care for the idea, even if it did have merit. "Promise to be careful?"

"Promise," Garry said with a smile.

Ib moved aside and Garry started to climb inside the painting. At that moment, a black, transparent hand shot out of the painting, its long sharp fingers grabbing Garry's coat and flinging him backwards. Garry hit the railing of the stairs hard, landing on his side. Ib tried to go to him, but the hand caught her from behind and pulled her close to the painting. Garry saw this and snarled in defiance. "Don't touch her!" he commanded, attempting to stand and free Ib; the ground began trembling violently then, and the stairs cracked just under Garry's feet.

"Garry!" Ib reached for his hand, but it had all happened too fast. As the monstrous arm held her tight, the ground beneath Garry broke away and sent him falling down into an inky black abyss. Her hand still outstretched and trembling, Ib didn't even get a chance to scream as she was pulled backward into the painting, and her house vanished from view.


	3. Chapter 3: The Orange Rose

**CHAPTER THREE**

_The Orange Rose_

Ib was enveloped in blackness for what seemed like forever. She almost felt like she was floating, and then suddenly she had landed gently on something cool and hard.

When her eyes had adjusted to her new surroundings, she found herself sitting on the floor of a magnificent ballroom of some kind. It almost resembled the castles she read about in fairy stories, with giant marble pillars that stretched to the high, sloping ceiling, and gorgeous chandeliers glittering from above her. There was a throne on the far side of the room fit for a king, and gigantic, vibrant paintings of all kinds filled the walls around her.

For a moment Ib was too taken by her surroundings to realize that she had dropped her rose, but she soon snapped out of it and looked for it intently. She couldn't see it anywhere. Filled with dread, Ib felt tears prick at her eyes. What had happened just before she lost her rose? She remembered the floor had been shaking, the ground opened, and Garry had fallen...

Garry fell...

"Garry!" Ib's heart nearly skipped a beat. Was Garry okay? Where was he now? What about _his _rose? The tears that she had been working hard to deny were now rolling down her cheeks, and she furiously wiped them away. Garry always did his best to protect her, whether from murderous statues or bullies at school, and where was _she _when _he _needed her?

Ib took several deep breaths. Crying wasn't going to save Garry. She needed to get out of here, find Garry, and escape with him. But first things first; she needed to find her rose, or she would be little use to her dear friend.

While searching the giant room for her rose, a large mural covering much of one of the walls caught her eye. Eyes widening, Ib approached it as if in a trance. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It looked like a magical land, with dainty trees littering the background behind the most breathtaking lake she had ever seen, ending in a tiny sparkling stream with a small, wooden bridge over it. The grass was green-blue and vibrant, and she could almost see it swaying in the wind. Everything about the scene was so perfect it was unreal, and she almost couldn't pry her eyes away from it.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Ib jumped at the male voice behind her, and for a wild moment thought it might be Garry. An older man stood several feet away, smiling good-naturedly. He looked incredibly familiar. Ib took a step backwards instinctively. "Wh-What?" came her faint reply.

"I didn't mean to surprise you," the man said with a sad smile. He looked beyond Ib at the painting she had been staring at. "It's one of my favorites, too," he said vaguely. "I set out to paint a world of unimaginable perfection. I believe I almost succeeded, but nothing is ever completely perfect, you know. Which is why artists are considered mad... And perhaps we are... We strive for perfection although we know we can never attain it."

Ib listened to the man confusedly, unsure of what to say in return. The man looked back to her and smiled.

"I'm glad you're here, Ib."

Ib frowned. "How do you know my name? Are you... Stuck here too? Are you from our world?"

"Yes, I am certainly from your world." the man answered, beginning to approach the little girl. Her back already touching the wall behind her, Ib realized it was useless to run. Her eyes widened when the man produced a red rose, and extended it to her.

"I believe this is yours," he said, and Ib took it from him.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, feeling relieved to be reunited with her life-line. Up close, the man looked more familiar than ever. His attire was slightly more classical than she was used to seeing, and although he was quite as old as her father, his eyes burned with the intensity of someone much older and weathered.

Ib then realized where she knew him from. He was the painting on the stairs, 'Self-Portrait'. The only difference was a pretty orange rose that he had neatly clipped onto the pocket over his breast.

"You... You're the painting, in my parents house," Ib said cautiously, remembering how Mary had reacted when Garry discovered her identical secret.

To her relief, the man merely smiled at her. "That is my self-portrait, yes. But I am not a painting, dear one. I am as real as you are."

Ib tilted her head at the man, contemplating his words. "So... Are you... … Weiss Guertena?" she asked in wonder. The man chuckled. "The one and the same," he answered, placing a hand on her shoulder and steering her away from the beautiful painting and walking with her as they spoke. Not feeling threatened by him, Ib allowed herself to be led.

"The last work I ever completed in your world was my own self-portrait, which brought me here after the very last brush stroke, and caused me to vanish altogether from that imperfect place. My portrait was gathering dust for some time before it was auctioned, and your parents bought it. But I'm quite content here."

"The last work? I thought..." Ib decided to word her questions carefully, "I thought that your last work was 'Mary'."

Guertena's eyes looked distant at the mention of Mary, but he smiled down at the girl sadly a moment later. "'Mary' was my last _known _work. I'm afraid I vanished so suddenly after painting myself, it could never be proven that I painted it. Of course there is speculation, and many experts believe it to be my work, but there is simply no proof." he paused, and stopped walking.

"Speaking of Mary," he began, "I'm terribly sorry for everything you've been through. It must have been quite the ordeal. I never meant for you to run into that girl."

Ib was too concerned about Garry to respond to Guertena's apology. "Please, Mr. Guertena, my friend Garry, he's in trouble. We got separated, and the ground broke away, and-"

"Ah, yes, I know. It _is _troubling. But I'm afraid there is nothing we can do." he said gravely. Ib drew away from the man. "What?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat.

Guertena smiled at her, in a fond manner. "You see, you are here with _me _now, Ib. I want you to always have fun, and to give you everything you want. Your 'friend' is no longer important."

Ib took another step backward, her face flush with anger. "What are you talking about? Of course he's important! Are you saying that you can't help, or you won't?" she demanded.  
"Can't, shan't, won't... Is there a clear difference?" the artist asked with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He wasn't supposed to become involved in the first place. He was an error that has been corrected."

Ib stared at Guertena with such a puzzled expression that the man had to chuckle.

"Have you not put the pieces together by now? I suppose it is difficult for me to see things from your perspective, as I have been here for such a very long time. All of this, Ib, is for you... My world is your world, so long as you wish it. You can have whatever you want here... I am the Creator of everything you see, down to the last detail. I tried to bring you here four years ago, but things did not go as planned, I'm afraid."  
"What? Why? Did you take my parents, too?" Ib asked angrily, clutching her rose.

"Your parents are safe," the artist explained, and he gestured at the wall to his left. One of the paintings faded, and in its place emerged the portrait of Ib's parents she had first seen four years ago in the museum. Her heart sank.

"They're in there, safe and sound," Guertena cooed, as if he were comforting her over a lost teddy bear. "I replaced them four years ago. I needed to bring you to the museum, and it seemed the best way. Were those mannequins not marvelous? In the real world, of course, they looked and acted perfectly. My designs were masterful. But when I transformed your town, I'm afraid they turned back into mannequins... But were they not impressive while they lasted?" he asked the little girl excitedly.

Ib felt sick. Could all of this really be true? She looked back at the portrait of her parents unbelievingly. "They're... _Inside _that?" she asked, barely audibly. Guertena observed the portrait for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes. Well, most of them. I had to use much of their memories for the mannequins. They had to act like your parents, after all. I'd say that after some time, they may have even believed it to be true." He made another gesture, and the portrait faded away. He turned back to the pale-faced girl and smiled softly at her.  
"Don't fret, my dear. You're here now. All I desire is to have you as my very own... A sweet daughter, just as I've always wanted. And in return, you may have whatever you want."

Shaking her head in disgust, Ib backed away from Guertena. "Whatever I want?" she asked him, her voice trembling. "I want Garry! I want my parents! I want to leave this place, and go back home!"  
Guertena looked confused. "You can't have those things," he said reproachfully. "Have you not listened? You _are _home."

Blinded by both tears and rage, Ib flew at the man, pounding her fists on his chest. Guertena grabbed her easily by the wrists, smiling like a patient father. "Ib, calm down. Nothing ever came of this sort of foolishness."  
"I want Garry! _I WANT GARRY_!" she yelled, not caring how she was carrying on. She wept, hating this man more than anyone she had ever known.

His next words chilled her to the very bone.

"Garry is dead, child. He is no more. Now stop your crying, dear one, and let us have some coffee and cakes together."

* * *

It was cold. Garry groaned; he felt groggy, but miraculously unhurt. Opening his eyes, Garry lay still for another moment before attempting to get up. Rubbing the back of his neck, Garry looked around.

He was in a strange room, filled with all kinds of paper and canvas littering the floor, desks and walls. Broken easels and half-finished paintings and sculptures surrounded him, and there were so many sketches, both finished and unfinished, that you could no longer see the desks or tables under them. Some of the stacks went clear to the ceiling.

Garry felt a surge of panic as he realized he was no longer holding his blue rose; he swirled around and found it sitting neatly on a stack of papers. Retrieving it and looking it over, Garry breathed a sigh of relief. No petals were missing. But how was that possible? Garry replayed the last few moments over in his head; the ground had opened beneath him, and the giant maw had swallowed him up. And Ib...  
"IB!" Garry exclaimed, remembering the black-clawed hand that had grabbed her. Garry wasted no time; he had to get out of this room and find her.

It was hard to navigate through the towers of broken art supplies and paper, and still Garry could find no windows or doors to lead him outside. It appeared he was trapped inside this strange room. He even checked the ceiling for trap doors or another possible way out, but it seemed the room was sealed tight.  
Out of frustration, Garry slammed his fist against a stack of papers.

"O-Ow! _OWIE_! Who's there? Why would you do that?!" came a muffled voice from within the stack of papers, and Garry fell backwards in terror. "What? Wha- Who?" Garry replied, looking around himself urgently. The voice sounded as though he had heard it before.  
"In here, I'm in here!" came the voice, and Garry followed it to a haphazard pile of sketches. He began looking through them. "'In here'? Where?" he stopped sifting through the papers when a rather familiar face glared at him up from a large piece of yellowed drawing paper.

"Mary!"

The girl in the sketch went from looking annoyed to astonished in a second.

"Garry! You? But-!"

"Mary, how are you- What I mean to say is, what are you doing in this piece of paper?" Garry asked confusedly.  
The sketch of Mary flipped her roughly-drawn hair behind her shoulder and looked down. "This was the sketch that led to my painting, so when it... Burned up... I found myself here." she said meekly.

Garry frowned. "Well, that's all very well, but I can't help but _not _feel sorry for you, Mary. There was the small matter of you trying to _kill us_ the last time we saw each other, and all."

Mary puffed out her cheeks indignantly, but her expression dissolved into one of embarrassment.  
"I'm sorry for all that," she said, swinging her arms behind her back. "I really liked you both, you know. But I wanted to get out so badly, I... I lost track of what was important."  
"You're just saying what you think I want to hear," Garry accused.  
"No, really! I mean it! I really really reeeeeally do!" Mary said regretfully. She placed her hands together and bowed her head. "Forgive me?" she asked sweetly, and Garry stared down at her with a judging expression. She looked up at him with a cheeky grin. "And after all, I think we're even, since you lit my painting on fire..." she added shamelessly, and Garry groaned.  
"All right, fine, all is forgiven. I suppose you can't come after me with a palette knife as you are, anyway."  
"Nooo~oope. Not even if I wanted to. Which I don't," she added quickly. Garry offered her a smile.

"What is this place, anyway? Why are you here?" Garry asked, looking around.  
"This is the Forgotten Room. All of Guertena's unwanted or broken pieces end up here. And sketches, of course. He thinks that only the finished products are important," Mary said dolefully. "I was on top of the stack, at one time. I could see the whole room! But the paper started piling up, and I couldn't wiggle my way out."  
"Can you wiggle, like that?"  
"Uh-huh," Mary responded proudly. Garry felt a flicker of remorse for Mary, being stuck in such a restricting form for so long, but he shook off the feeling.

"Listen, Mary, I've lost Ib. I don't know where she is, but I need to get out of this room. Is there a way out?" he asked her, and Mary's smile melted. "Ib's... Here? Oh, dear," she said in concern. Garry raised a brow at the piece of paper. "What does that mean?"

"Guertena probably has her," Mary answered thoughtfully. "which means his Distorted World has leaked into _your _world. That's not a good thing."

Garry stared at Mary's sketch, trying to process her words. "Wait... Guertena, the artist, is alive?"  
"Sort of," Mary said, crossing her arms and walking around in a circle as she spoke. "Right after he painted me, he painted himself. He wanted to become one with the world he created. He's been in here ever since."

"How did that happen? He painted himself, and it just... Transported him into this 'Distorted World'?" Garry was growing more confused than he previously thought imaginable.  
"Haven't you wondered how all of this was possible?" Mary asked him admonishingly, twirling her roughly-drawn finger over her head to represent 'everything'. "Guertena discovered the ability to put his spirit into his creations, and bring them to life. He found that he could also put other people's spirits into things, when he painted them. So when he painted himself, POOF! Off he went, to be in this world with all of us."

All of it seemed to make sense, in a strange way. Garry shook his head. "But, why would he do that? Wouldn't he want to show off his incredible skill to the world?" Garry wondered aloud.  
Mary nodded somewhat sadly. "That was why he did it. He wanted to be remembered above all other artists, even Da Vinci and Michelangelo. He decided to create from inside his own world, and spread it to the real world. His goal was to use his paintings and creations as windows into the Distorted World, so that he could begin molding your world into one of his own creation. He wants his own realm, one that everyone can see."

"That's... Crazy," Garry mused. He looked at Mary urgently. "We need to get out of here, and find Ib. Do you know a way out?" he asked her. Mary nodded. "Did you try the door, silly?" she asked him, giggling.  
"There is no door!" Garry informed her. "I looked."  
"There can be, if you make one," Mary suggested. "It's a little trick I picked up. There, under that broken canvas, do you see that stick of charcoal?" Garry followed Mary's pointed finger to the charcoal. "Yes... What am I supposed to do with that?"  
"Be creative! Draw a door. Ooh, make _sure _to draw a doorknob though, that's my favorite part!" she exclaimed happily.  
Garry picked up the charcoal and looked at the wall questionably. "Are you sure that will work?" he asked doubtfully.  
"Only one way to know!" Mary chimed.

Garry began to draw a crude door into the wall. Art really wasn't his forte, design was more his cup of tea, but nonetheless his door was functional even if it wasn't very pretty. When he was done drawing the hinges, he heard the familiar _clink _of a lockset before he had even drawn the doorknob.  
"But don't draw a keyhole, okay? We don't want to get locked in," Mary pointed out.  
Garry drew a simple circle for the doorknob, and with a deep breath, he attempted to open the door. He felt his hand grasp cool metal, and he swung open his door, emerging into a hallway.

Oddly proud of his makeshift escape, Garry laughed. "Interesting. All right, is this the right way, Mary?" he asked, pocketing the charcoal.  
"All hallways in this place will lead to Guertena's Grand Room, eventually. He'll most likely have Ib there with him."


	4. Chapter 4: Life & Work of Guertena

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
_The Life and Work of Weiss Guertena_

Garry began walking briskly down the hall. He kept his eyes peeled for possible enemies as he went, determined not to lose any time finding Ib.

"So, Guertena wants to use our world as a big canvas. Does that mean that the distorted town we were in earlier today was really _our _world?"  
"Yes," Mary said casually, playing with one of the small sketched butterflies that took up a small portion of her page, "but it might not be too late. His Distorted World leaks slowly, so he's probably only spread it to your town. It won't be long before he moves on, though... He can create works of art just by thinking of them now, so soon your whole town will be under his control."

"Alright, I get all of that. But how does Ib fit into all of this? Why were we the only ones left, and why does he have her now? And for that matter, is she safe with him?"

"Too many questions!" Mary pouted, and then she sighed in a resigned way. "I'll just tell it from the beginning, okay? Otherwise it won't make sense."

"When Guertena was younger, he wanted to be remembered." she started.  
"You mentioned that," Garry said unhelpfully.  
"Don't interrupt, meanie!" Mary scolded, and Garry awkwardly fell silent.

"Hmph. Anyway, he decided to try and become a real _renaissance man_ by trying several different mediums of art. Sculptures, realism, abstract, expressionism, you name it. But he still felt like it wasn't enough.

Over time, he found that the more passionately he worked on a piece, the more signs of life it seemed to show. They were coming to life, but only in an overlapping world he named The True World.  
He discovered he had the ability to put human spirits into his work when he painted his ex-lover. You might know her as 'The Lady in Red'? She was the first living person he ever painted, and he found that he had brought her to life inside of the portrait. She wasn't very happy about that."  
_I couldn't tell_, Garry thought to himself bitterly.

"She disappeared from the real world, though." Mary continued, "That's when he figured out that you couldn't live in both places at once. I think that's when he decided to paint his own portrait, and he began working on me, as well."

"Self-portrait," Garry said quietly as he walked. Suddenly he came to skidding halt. "Wait... 'Self-Portrait'! The painting in Ib's house!"  
"That's how he found her, as far as I know." Mary said carelessly. "He desires Ib as his daughter. That's why he's doing all of this. He wanted to bring her into his world."

Garry looked at the sketch of Mary unbelievingly. "His... Daughter? Wh- Why? And... How do you know all of this, anyway?"  
Mary smiled at Garry sadly. "I was his first daughter." she said simply.

Garry was stunned. He considered saying something, but found he didn't know what to say.

Mary sat down in her paper, tracing circles on the blank space she used as a floor. "He didn't want to be all alone in his world. He wanted someone different from his mindless creations. He longed for the perfect daughter, I guess. Someone to love him unconditionally. So he created me before he disappeared out there for good, and we met on this side.  
Things were okay for a while. I liked him. He made me pretty dolls, and gave me whatever I wanted. But... I wanted to be on the outside, I wanted to be a real little girl who had friends, _real _friends. But Guertena didn't like that."

Memory jogged itself, and Garry could remember the remains of Mary's things he and Ib had found after they had burned up her painting; pictures and dolls and a diary entry that begged for a way out, and for friends that cared about her. Garry felt terribly sorry for Mary, but he didn't want to seem as if he was pitying her, for the girl's sake. "I'm... Sorry, Mary. If you don't mind my asking, what happened after that?"  
"Well, I found a way out! I discovered that you could leave and become real, but you had to take the place of someone else on the outside. Guertena wouldn't let me, though. But I escaped him, and I made my own world, and destroyed my painting, so he couldn't find or see me."  
"That place drawn in crayon? The 'Sketchbook'?" Garry asked her.  
"Yes," Mary answered, with a hint of pride, "that was my own little world. And then I waited for someone to show up so I could take their place on the outside." She looked down in embarrassment again. "Sorry."  
"Don't be," Garry said hastily, feeling sorry enough for Mary to be able to forget any bad blood between them.

Suddenly, a sharp pain caused Garry to stop walking. "Aah," Garry pulled up one of his sleeves to reveal a fresh gash on his arm. "What the- Where did I get this?" he asked. Mary strained to see his arm, and gasped. "Oh no. Your rose!"  
Garry glanced at his rose and paled; he had somehow lost a petal. Turning around, he saw it on the ground behind him. "How did that happen? Nothing attacked me!" Garry said.

"I thought so," Mary said, her voice heavy with worry. "She's losing faith in you."

Garry's violet eyes flashed towards the sketch in his hand. "Who? Ib? What are you talking about?"  
"You and Ib, your roses have become interlinked. I think Guertena knows that, too. If you lose faith in each other, or forget each other, it will cause petals to fall."

Garry stared at his rose, the pain in his heart much worse than in his arm. "Ib... You're losing faith in me? Or forgetting me...?" he whispered unbelievingly. How could such a thing be possible?  
"Not without help," Mary pointed out. "Guertena is probably filling her head with lies. He's good at that. Or he took her to 'Musings of Perfection' and made her forget everything."

"What is that? A painting?" Garry asked, suddenly more concerned than before.

"Yep~ It looks really beautiful at first glance, and inside it's so perfect and amazing that anyone would forget themselves in it, and want to live there forever! But it didn't work on meee~!" Mary giggled. "I'm already a painting, so I saw right through it. It's actually really, really ugly. But an innocent soul like Ib is sure to fall for it."

Ignoring the pain in his arm, Garry took off down the hallway in a full sprint. He had been wanting to reserve his energy, but all bets were now off. Ib was in danger, his fallen rose petal was the proof. He had to get to her soon, before anything bad could happen to her, and before his rose ran out of petals.

_Wait for me, Ib,_ he thought desperately. _Don't lose faith in me!_

* * *

The sound of soft sobbing echoed through the Grand Room. Ib's rage had dissipated and left only sorrow and hopelessness in its place, and she cried against Guertena's shirt as he held her comfortingly and whispered sweet words. She was no longer trying to push him away; it was useless. She felt sure that she could never escape him, and honestly, she didn't care to try. With Garry gone from her forever, any sort of life outside of this one seemed dull and pointless.

Suddenly, Ib felt warm. She opened her eyes, and could almost hear Garry's voice, distantly, somewhere far away but very close, begging her not to give up. The sensation was enough to give her the strength to pull away from Guertena; he looked surprised. Ib backed away from him. "Garry's alive," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. She flashed the man a look of defiance. "He's alive! I'm not giving up! I'm not going to be your 'daughter', I'm going home with Garry!" she proclaimed angrily.

Guertena sighed and shook his head. "You're so young. I know, it's hard for you to understand." he said. He raised his hand slightly. "I'll _help _you understand."

A blinding light appeared and overwhelmed Ib's senses. She shut her eyes tight and covered her face with her arm, and at that moment, it almost felt like she was floating backwards. She was no longer sure if she was awake or asleep, or somewhere in between... But suddenly, she felt a warm breeze, and something unimaginably soft was brushing against her cheek.

Ib opened her eyes carefully; Feathery blades of grass were tickling her face. She sat up, her body feeling light. Everywhere she looked was a land of incredible beauty. It was the world of the giant mural she had seen earlier, except it was even more tranquil and perfect inside. Ib stood up and took in her surroundings gratefully. The most dainty, perfect butterfly she had ever seen fluttered past her, and Ib smiled. A winding creek filled with shimmering water lay in front of her, and over it, the tiny bridge. Ib ran to the water and dunked her hand in. It was cool and refreshing.

What had she been doing before this? Whatever it was surely couldn't have been very important.

"Ib..."

Hearing her name on the wind, Ib looked up. Who was that? It sounded like someone very dear to her. What was his name?

"Come, Ib. Let's be together."

Yes! That sounded wonderful. Just the two of them, together in this little world. Where they could be themselves, and never leave each others side. Ib got up and began walking towards the voice.

She could see a familiar form in the distance, under the biggest and most beautiful tree she had ever seen. His dark, tattered coat swayed in the gentle breeze, and his arms were outstretched for her. Ib clutched her rose joyously to her chest, and ran to meet him.  
He welcomed her into his warm embrace, but his form had changed. The dark coat was gone, and his hair had changed color. It didn't matter... He was the person she most desired. She looked up at him happily, flinging her small arms around his waist and hugging him.

"I missed you, papa!"

* * *

Garry stumbled and caught himself against the wall of the hallway, out of breath and bleeding now from three more wounds. He glanced at the ground behind him to see three blue rose petals in a trail, peppered with crimson droplets. He clutched his chest and took several deep breaths. Mary was dancing in her frame with fright.

"This is bad, very bad! Garry, are you okay? Can you continue?" she asked him, wishing for the first time in a very long while that she had her proper body. Garry coughed, and wiped a bit of blood from his lips. "Yes... I have to, I'll be fine," he said, pushing away from the wall and continuing to run, despite the pain. "How much farther? This blasted hallway seems to go on forever," Garry huffed.  
"Shouldn't be too much farther now," Mary said.

Not long after Mary said this, the hallway finally opened up into a bright, massive room with a black and white checkered floor, gigantic stone pillars and a throne at one end.

"This is it!" Mary exclaimed, and Garry entered, using the aid of one of the walls to hold himself up. He looked around.  
"I don't see anyone," he said in frustration. "Are you sure they're here?"  
"If he wanted to make her forget everything, they'll be in there," Mary said, pointing to a large mural on one of the walls. Mustering up his strength, Garry approached the wall.

From a distance, the mural _did _look perfect, like something out of a story book. But the closer Garry got, the more disturbing it became. When he was standing in front of it, it looked downright terrifying. Twisted, bare trees littered the backdrop, and the sky was a dark crimson color. The grass was dead and brown, and rotting things were scattered everywhere. There was a lake, but it looked badly polluted, and a broken bridge was arched over a tiny stream of rancid water.

Garry placed a hand on the mural, but nothing happened. "How do I get in?" he asked Mary, pounding on it with his fist.  
"I don't know if we can. If Guertena is in there, he won't want us barging in, obviously." she answered.

Another rose petal fell, and then another. Garry fell to one knee, panting. His chest felt like it was going to explode, and his vision was swimming badly.  
Garry shook his head. "I have to get to her," Garry breathed, one of his hands gripping his chest. "I can't let her down. I didn't do a good enough job protecting her... If she forgets everything, she'll be trapped forever. I just... Can't let that happen..."

Mary stared at the man with an unreadable expression. She felt a flicker of jealousy within her. She couldn't believe how much Garry cared for Ib, and she wished, deep down, that just one person could have cared so much for her in the same way. For four long years she had been alone and colorless on a piece of sketch paper, and although initially she had felt hurt and furious at her 'friends' for destroying her only chance at freedom, over time she grew lonely, and repentant. She realized how she truly differed from Ib and Garry, and had come to accept her fate. And now, even though she had done all of these bad things and learned so much from her mistakes, she _still _felt envious of them.

But mostly Mary felt moved by Garry's devotion and love for the little girl.

"Call to her," Mary said softly. "I think she'll hear you."

Garry glanced at the drawing of Mary. She looked despondent, but she was smiling tragically as if to say, _I believe in you_. Composing himself, Garry focused all of his remaining strength in his voice just as another blue rose petal floated to the ground.

* * *

"More tea, papa?" Ib asked, brandishing the tea kettle with a smile. Guertena smiled back. "How kind of you to offer. Please," he replied, tipping his teacup toward the girl. She poured him some, and then set the pot down, grabbing herself another small cake. She was terribly hungry for some reason, and had been helping herself. Her father reminded her not to eat too quickly, just like he had some time ago, at a certain dessert shop. She had gotten a tummy-ache then, too, and then she and her father had visited their favorite spot on a hill -

_Wait_. Ib thought suddenly, _Did all of that really happen?_

"Ib, dear one, finish your tea," Guertena said.  
The girl snapped out of her thoughts, and smiled. "Okay," she replied fondly.

Ib and her father were having a wonderful picnic just under the comforting shade of a large tree. Laid out on their blanket was a feast of unimaginable deliciousness, everything that Ib had ever loved to eat. It was a perfect day.

A red rose adorned Ib's hair just above her right ear. She couldn't remember where she had found the pretty thing, but her father assured her that it was important, and she should keep it with her and take care of it, always. Ib was just glad she had a rose to match her fathers; his own orange rose looked so charming and handsome.

Ib looked up suddenly. She heard something, but she couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. It seemed like it was coming from everywhere at once. "Do you hear that?" Ib asked her father, straining to listen. Her father put his teacup down with a loud clink. "I hear nothing but the birds. Don't bother yourself so," he insisted.  
She couldn't help herself, the sound was so terribly familiar, it almost made her stomach flutter. "I think it's a voice," Ib continued. Guertena's eyes flashed. "Ib. There is nothing. Leave it alone." his voice sounded stern.  
But Ib wasn't listening to her father at the moment, she was far too focused on the voice floating over the breeze. _Why _did it sound so recognizable?

_Ib! None of it is real, you need to get out of there! _

"Huh?" Ib frowned. How did the voice know her name? She looked back at her father, who looked absolutely livid. She wasn't sure why he was so angry. "You hear the voice too, don't you?" Ib asked her father. Guertena got up in an instant, and grabbed Ib by the arm, pulling her up. "I don't hear anything. Come along," he said, pulling her with him. Ib looked back at the discarded picnic, feeling strange. Something wasn't right.

_Ib, don't give up! Don't forget! Come back to me, __please__! __IB!_

That voice...! She knew it. She _had _to know it. Memories came flooding back to her, memories of a favorite dessert shop, of seeing him waiting for her at the gate when school was over for the day, of telling secrets and reading books together. Memories of a dark, scary museum where she had found him, and rescued his blue rose. Precious memories she swore she could never forget.

"GARRY!" Ib exclaimed, and wrenched herself away from Guertena with such force that she fell backward and hit the ground hard. When she opened her eyes, Guertena was nowhere to be seen, and her surroundings had drastically changed. Everything was now dead and grey, and a crimson sky loomed ominously over the suddenly decaying world.

Ib rose to her feet and began to run. She wasn't sure which way was out, or if there _was _a way out, but she could hear Garry, and that was all that mattered.

The trees almost seemed to mock her as she ran, and Ib could feel eyes watching her as she frantically looked for an exit. Panic seared through her; she seemed to be going in circles, and Garry's voice had gone silent. Was he okay? He had sounded almost weakened before, and Ib realized she had no idea what he had been through since they were separated.

"Garry! Garry, where are you? Can you hear me?!" Ib shouted, fighting back frightened tears. A dark laughing sound came from all around her, and she was no longer sure if it was really happening or if it was all in her head. As she ran, she tripped over an uprooted tree branch and landed on her knees, hissing in pain.

The sounds of laughter were drowning everything else out. Ib covered her ears and shut her eyes tight, praying that Garry was okay.


	5. Chapter 5: Sacrifice of the Yellow Rose

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_Sacrifice of the Yellow Rose_

Garry's back was pressed against the mural, unsure of what to do. Just after he had heard Ib's voice yell his name from inside the painting, headless statues had appeared from several different openings in the walls that manifested seemingly out of nowhere, and were quickly closing in on them.

Garry knew he was in no fit state to fight them off. Even though he hadn't lost any more petals, he was down to his last three, and had exhausted the last of his energy calling for Ib.

"Mary... This doesn't look good." Garry admitted weakly. Mary surveyed their opponents, and shook her head.

"Nooo~pe. Here, put me against the mural. I'm going to try something," she said, and Garry didn't hesitate to obey. Pressed against the wall, Mary closed her eyes in concentration. Garry looked back at their advancing company, nearly positive that whatever Mary was doing was going to be too late. But after a couple of seconds, the mural flashed with brilliant white light, and both Garry and Mary's sketch fell headlong into it.

He almost lacked the strength to stand, but somehow he managed it. Garry looked around; they were inside the mural. Turning around, Garry took note of a large, faintly glowing rectangular shape.  
"That's our way out," Mary observed. Taking a few deep breaths, Garry started walking, making sure not to lose sight of their exit.  
"Ib! Can you hear me?" Garry shouted, looking all around as he went. He realized that it was very easy to become lost in a place like this; it looked the same no matter where he turned, but he assumed that was the purpose. Garry's body protested violently as he walked along, but he ignored the pain. He hadn't lost any more petals, which gave him hope that Ib had broken free of the spell of this place. He had to find her.

Garry stopped suddenly, seeing the small form of a girl with her hands covering her ears kneeling on the ground about a yard away, surrounded by trees. Garry felt an explosion of relief.

* * *

Ib could still hear the laughing, but nothing else. You can imagine her surprise when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder; she assumed the worst, and thought that perhaps Guertena had found her again. When she opened her eyes, Garry's smiling face came into view, and all of a sudden, the laughter around her stopped as if everything had been silenced at once. Ib stared at Garry with wide eyes, unsure if he was just another illusion. Garry's smile faded and he touched the side of Ib's face gently, kneeling down in front of her.  
"Ib? Are you alright?" he asked in concern. Her unresponsiveness had him worried. "Are you hurt?"

It _was _him. Ib felt tears well up again... How many times had she cried today? Throwing her arms around his waist, Ib hugged Garry fiercely, burying her face in his chest. "It's you! You're here..." she exclaimed unbelievingly. Garry smiled and embraced her as tightly as his injuries would allow.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he said regretfully. Ib shook her head. "Don't be sorry," she laughed. Garry winced suddenly and Ib pulled away in concern. "Wha... Garry...? Your rose!" she cried.

"It's nothing," Garry lied with a comforting smile.  
"It's not 'nothing', you're really hurt!" Ib replied seriously. "How did this happen? We have to find a vase, right away!"

"We have to get out of here first," came Mary's voice from the yellowed paper Garry was holding, and Ib looked at the paper in fascination. "M-Mary? Is that really you?" Ib asked in wonder, inching closer to the paper. Mary blushed in embarrassment under Ib's stare and nodded. "Yes... No time to talk, though, we have to get to the exit!"  
Ib nodded, and got up, grabbing Garry carefully under the arm. "One, two, three!" she said as she helped hoist him up. Garry teetered a bit on the spot, and Ib's heart ached painfully at the sight. She couldn't believe how injured he was, and she was now more determined than ever to find safety. Ib draped Garry's arm over her shoulders.  
"Sorry for the trouble," Garry said sadly.  
"Nonsense," said Ib sincerely. "You saved me. I heard your voice."

Garry smiled. "I'm glad. I don't want you to forget yourself. Or me." He paused. "I'm so glad you're okay." he finished.

The two of them walked in silence, heading toward the exit to the once beautiful world.  
"Is that it, over there?" Ib asked, indicating the glowing rectangle in the distance.  
"Yep. We're almost out!" Mary's sketch chimed happily.

Garry suddenly swayed and dropped to one knee, coughing. Ib felt terror pool in the pit of her stomach as she saw a thin line of blood trickle from his mouth, but it was quickly wiped away. "Garry!"  
"I'm fine," Garry said hoarsely, but Ib knew that wasn't true at all. "Just a little farther, we'll find someplace to rest and heal your rose, okay?" Ib said desperately, and Garry managed to look up at her with a reassuring smile.

"I'm slowing us down... I'd feel much better if you went on ahead. I'll catch up with you," Garry said, not giving much credit to his own words. Ib shook her head intently. "No. I finally have you again, we're not splitting up. We're getting out _together_," she said in a tone that suggested the discussion was over. Garry couldn't help but smile at the maturity of her words... Was she really growing up that fast?

Noticing movement behind Ib, Garry's smile melted. The black hand from before was snaking its way through the shadows, and had reared up just behind the little girl like a cobra ready to strike.

With more speed than his body should have allowed, Garry sprang up and shoved Ib out of the way; the black claws struck him full-force, sending him crashing unceremoniously to the ground. His shirt torn and bloody, two lovely blue petals drifted lazily down, landing on Mary's sketch, which had flown out of his hand.

Ib was on him in a second. She observed the rose he was clutching... One petal remained. The black hand reared up over them, and Ib gripped Garry protectively, unsure of what she could possibly do to fight against it.

"Stand down, stand down," came the voice of Guertena, and he stepped out of the shadows behind the hand. The monstrous black hand stopped all motion, and shrank away, seemingly awaiting new orders. Guertena stopped in front of Garry's crumpled form, looking down at the barely conscious young man with distaste.  
"You've been quite a thorn in my side for some time," Guertena observed critically, "but playtime is over. No matter how many obstacles I put in your way, you always seem to come back again, like a damned cockroach. It's become exceedingly clear that Ib and I cannot be happy together with you around."  
The shadow hand nearly looked delighted as its master gave a flick of his wrist; he advanced on Garry and Ib again, preparing for the death blow.

"I'll be your daughter!" Ib yelled, stopping the hand in its tracks. Guertena looked down at Ib thoughtfully. "You relent?" he asked her, sounding pleasantly surprised.  
"Yes!" Ib exclaimed, tears in her eyes. "I'll be the perfect daughter for you. I'll forget everything, if you want me to. I'll do anything... But _only _if you let Garry live, and make sure he stays unharmed."

Garry managed to open his eyes long enough to look at Ib as she finished speaking. "Ib... …. No... Just leave me... …. Get out..." he breathed.  
Ib smiled brightly down at Garry, a tear sliding down her cheek. "I can't do that. I can't lose you. I won't," she said decidedly.  
Guertena crossed his arms and contemplated Ib's proposal. Mary, however, knew this was a horrible situation... On one hand, Garry was already very near death, and had Ib not spoken out, he surely would have been killed. But Ib didn't yet know that forgetting about Garry or losing faith in him caused his rose to die. She was too afraid to say a word, as Guertena hadn't yet noticed she was there. So Mary stayed very still, furiously thinking of a plan.

"I can make you forget again easily enough," Guertena finally said, with a tone of contemplation. "Keeping him alive does not seem to suit my needs."

Ib stood up and carefully walked away from Garry, approaching Guertena with a look of determination. "I might remember again," she pointed out, "and that will just cause complications, won't it? It doesn't seem worth the risk."  
Guertena's thoughtful silence gave Ib hope. As a last offer, she plucked the red rose from her hair and extended it to the man. "I'll give you my life for his," she said, which caused Garry to attempt getting up in protest, but his body was too weakened to move. Guertena stared at the offering, seeming intrigued. He reached for it, but Ib held it back. "_Only_ if you restore Garry's rose, and keep him safe."

Guertena smiled softly. "A catch, of course." The artist made another gesture, and out of the shadows a small table formed, with a single vase filled with enough water to completely heal one rose.

Ib knelt over Garry and carefully picked up his damaged rose. Garry managed to grab her sleeve, albeit weakly. "Ib... Don't, please..." Garry pleaded, and Ib placed her hand over his with a sad smile. "It will be okay," she said, and carefully carried Garry's rose to the vase.

Garry suddenly gasped for air, his whole body feeling better, in every respect. He tried to immediately spring up to stop Ib from giving away her rose, but before he could blink there were three black shadowed hands grabbing him around the waist and arms, keeping him down.  
Ib turned, holding both roses in her hands.

"You said you wouldn't hurt him!" she said furiously.

"I will not hurt your friend. But I will not allow him to remain with us, either," Guertena said.  
Garry was livid. "Don't do this, just leave Ib alone, please! Kill me if you want, I don't care, just leave her out of thi-" A shadow hand snaked its way around Garry's head and over his mouth, silencing him. Guertena shook his head. "I desire her, not your life. She will be very happy, don't you worry." he said apathetically.

Ib did everything she could to keep from crying; she had to be strong for Garry's sake. She walked to her friend and gently placed his rose inside of his coat, as his arms were currently bound.  
"I'll be fine," she said, flashing him a smile. "We'll both be safe this way." Garry shook his head at her, trying to speak but the shadow gag prevented him. As a means of goodbye, Ib wrapped her small arms around Garry's neck and hugged him tightly. Tears stung at Garry's eyes; all of this was so unfair. Ib pulled away and left a gentle kiss on Garry's cheek.

Ib turned and walked to the artist, obediently handing him her rose. He took it from her, and to her added disappointment, handed it off to yet another dark hand, of which he seemed to have an infinite supply. It disappeared into darkness.

"Now, come. We're leaving," Guertena said, placing his hand on Ib's shoulder possessively.

Something yellow and previously unnoticed shot from the ground like a flash, savagely slicing the air between Guertena and Ib. The little girl almost didn't realize anything happened until the artist released his grip on her shoulder and fell to his knees, his shirt suddenly stained with blood. Orange rose petals littered the ground, and Ib finally saw the piece of sketching paper at her feet, amidst the petals. Mary's paper was badly torn, presumably on Guertena's rose.

Snatching the paper up, Ib turned away from the man's heaving form and saw that Garry had been released from the hands and arms; they had all recoiled as if they too had been injured. As soon as Garry was free he grabbed Ib's hand and ran so fast towards the exit that Ib could barely keep up with him. In another moment, the light hit them, and they knew they were out.


	6. Chapter 6: Ending Where We Began

**CHAPTER SIX**

_Ending Where We Began_

Ib and Garry found themselves on the streets of town. Somehow, escaping the mural had brought them to the center of their tainted town, instead of the Grand Room. Everything looked very much the same as before, and Garry still had his rose, so they were still in a Distorted World. Before long, Ib and Garry found a safe place to sit down and rest just under a bridge.

"How are you feeling? Do you feel hurt anywhere?" Garry asked anxiously, and Ib shook her head. "No, I feel fine..." she replied. Garry sighed heavily, raking a hand through his unruly hair out of nervousness. "Guertena probably isn't dead... And now he has your rose. We _have _to get it back." he said, and suddenly Ib remembered the piece of paper she clutched in her hand. "Mary!" she exclaimed, and examined the paper.

It was torn nearly in half, and even when Ib gently placed the page back together, Mary's sketch was unmoving and unresponsive. Ib bit her bottom lip with worry. "Can a sketch... Die? Do you think we can tape her back together?" she asked in concern. She was moved by Mary's effort to help them, and hated to see their brief friendship end so abruptly. Garry gently took the paper from Ib and looked it over. "It looks almost like she's sleeping... I can't tell if she's passed out, or..." Garry trailed off solemnly. He carefully folded up the piece of paper, and put it in his coat. "We'll see what we can do later. After all, I still have to thank her for everything."

"How did you find her?" Ib asked curiously.

Garry took a deep breath, and began recounting his experiences in the Forgotten Room, the information Mary had given him, and everything that led to their reunion in the mural. The little girl wasn't exceedingly surprised by any of it, until Garry mentioned what Mary had told him about their roses.  
"They're connected?" Ib asked, bewildered. "How so?"  
"Well," Garry said heavily, not wanting to upset the girl, "I knew you had started to forget me when I lost a few petals. I suppose if we forget each other, or lose faith, petals fall. That's what Mary told me, anyway. She was pretty certain that Guertena knew, as well. He may have tried to make you forget for more reasons than one."

Ib shook her head. "So _I _was the reason you were so hurt?"

"No Ib, Guertena was. You had nothing to do with it." Garry said firmly. Ib nodded with a frown.

"Speaking of which, we need to get your rose back," Garry said, standing up and helping Ib to her feet.

"How?" Ib asked, looking around them. "We can't try the portrait in my house, who knows what will happen," she said with a shudder. Garry thought for a moment, and then sighed. "I wish we could ask Mary," he said, "I'm almost sure she would have the answer for us."

The two of them began walking, hand-in-hand. They weren't sure yet where they were headed, but they both decided that considering all that had happened in 'Musings of Perfection', it was best not to stay in one place for too long, lest Guertena find them.  
"We can't really trust _any _painting or doorway," Ib said thoughtfully as they went. "It's all under his control. They're all his doorways, and he can just lead us anywhere he wants."

"That's true," Garry answered defeatedly. He again thought of Mary, and the world she had to create for herself just to escape the man's control.  
Garry stopped walking so suddenly that Ib's arm was nearly wrenched off of her body; she turned to the man in alarm. "What is it?"  
"I still have it!" Garry exclaimed, fishing around in one of his pockets. He pulled out the stick of charcoal he had recovered from the Forgotten Room. "We can make our own door!" Garry said triumphantly. Ib tilted her head. "Do you think that will work out here?" she asked.  
"Not sure," Garry replied honestly, looking around for a proper surface to attempt a door. Next to them was a small office building, with a nice large bare wall. (Made of canvas, naturally.) Garry approached it and began drawing a door similar to the one he had escaped with before, careful to remember not to draw a keyhole. To Garry and Ib's mutual relief, they heard the door _click _to life, and Garry was able to pull the door open easily.

The two of them poked their heads through the doorway, and were greeted by a hallway covered in shadows.  
"This might lead to the Grand Room. If it does, hopefully Guertena will be there, and we can get your rose back," Garry said.  
"He's probably healed himself by now," Ib said doubtfully. "How can we get it back? He can do anything he wants here."

Garry had been worried about that fact, but he was determined not to give up. There was a time four years ago when he had thought that they may never escape the museum, but somehow the two of them had survived. The odds looked a little worse this time, but Garry knew they had no choice but to press on and give it their best.  
"We'll find a way to make him surrender, don't worry," Garry said confidently, and grabbed a hold of Ib's hand. They walked through the doorway together.

Ib looked around the dark hallway as they went; paintings lined the walls, and they looked very familiar. Garry noticed it as well. "Garry... Do you think we're...?"  
"Back in the museum?" Garry finished apprehensively. "I believe we are."  
Neither of them were very surprised by this fact, but it was still unsettling to be back. Ib gripped Garry's coat out of force of habit, and the two of them quickened their pace.

They traveled for a short while through the museum without incident. Some of the paintings were stirring within their frames, but none were attacking or seeming to be bothered by the intruders, to Ib and Garry's relief. It was when the companions reached the end of the hallway that they truly began to worry.

Scrawled haphazardly on the wall in red paint were the words: "_LET US FINISH IT WHERE IT ALL BEGAN_". Ib frowned. "He knows we're here." she said flatly, and Garry cleared his throat.  
"Good," he said, continuing into a big room filled with several sculptures behind red rope, "that will make it easier for us to find him."

Just as Garry had finished his sentence, a pain struck him, and he grunted in discomfort. Two blue rose petals fell to the ground, and Garry and Ib exchanged worried glances. "How did...?"  
"I'm not forgetting anything, I'm right here with you," Ib said earnestly. Garry paled.  
"Than that means... Ib, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked her worriedly, and Ib checked herself and then shook her head.

Ib pulled on Garry's hand. "Come on. We have to find Guertena." she urged.

As they turned a corner, they were greeted by a rather unwelcome sight. Several Portrait Women and headless statues were quickly advancing on them, and both Ib and Garry wasted no time looking for an escape route. They spotted a partially opened door just past their attackers, and decided fleetingly to try a maneuver they had learned during their first visit.

Splitting up and running in two different directions, Ib and Garry managed to lure their mindless enemies across the room, and once they had a wide enough advantage, the two of them took off towards the door. Garry hurried Ib through the door first, and then flung himself in and slammed the door tightly behind them.

Ib and Garry took a moment to catch their breath. When Ib finally looked up, she saw that they were in a huge, empty room; there was only one painting, a tall, long piece that she almost thought she had seen before.  
Garry saw it as well. "Is that... 'The Fabricated World'?" he asked, walking over to the wall.  
"That's what it looks like... But... It isn't," Ib observed. Her eyes caught movement by the painting, and she grabbed Garry's hand, pulling him back. "Watch out! What is that stuff?"  
There seemed to be a dark, black-purple substance leaking from the painting, and seeming to evaporate into the air like a gas. Garry stepped in front of Ib protectively. "Try not to breath it in," Garry said, pressing his sleeve against his nose and mouth. He remembered what Mary had told him about Guertena's Distorted World 'leaking' into the real world, and wondered if this was what she meant.

"Stay there," Garry directed, and carefully approached the painting. He got just close enough to read the plaque underneath; 'The True World'. Garry backed away and lowered his arm. "Just as I thought," he said in a troubled voice, "I believe this might be the source of the distortion... This is where it's leaking into our world."  
Ib allowed herself to breathe again. "Then that means we probably shouldn't be here, right?"  
"Right," Garry said urgently, and turned, grabbing Ib's hand and heading for the door. Before he could reach for the doorknob, the ground beneath them shook, and vines burst from the ground, covering the door entirely. Garry grabbed the vines to attempt to tear them down, but they were made of stone, just as they had been four years ago.

Before either of them could start to think of another way out, the ground rumbled yet again, and more vines exploded from the ground just under Ib's feet. She and Garry grabbed for each other, but the stone vines pulled them apart and formed perfect oval cages around each of them, firmly encasing them inside.

"IB! Are you alright?" Garry exclaimed, grasping the stone bars of his cage. Ib nodded. "I'm fine. But... What do we do now...?"

"I'm surprised you found your way here," came Guertena's voice, and both Ib and Garry noticed the artist suddenly standing in front of his massive painting. "That deceitful Mary taught you a thing or two, I see. But no matter. This is _my _world now. There is no where you can go that I can't find you."

Garry had never wanted to get at someone so badly before. "What is your problem? Why are you being so persistent? Just let us go and be done with it! This has got to be exhausting, following us around all the time!" Garry said angrily.  
"It is proving to be," Guertena said simply. "It all should have been rather easy. But _you _got in the way, you see. I still have no idea how you came to be in my world four years ago, and I have no idea how it happened this time, either. Both times, I intended for Ib to arrive alone. You are a mystery, to be sure. I would be lying if I said that your presence didn't inspire me... But more than anything, you've become an annoyance."  
To Ib's horror, Guertena produced her red rose; it was missing a petal. Experimentally, Guertena pulled another petal off of the rose, and Garry cried out and buckled over in pain, droplets of blood falling to the floor of his makeshift prison.

"Stop!" Ib exclaimed in a panic. "I'll do whatever you want, I'll be your daughter! Just don't hurt him!"  
"We tried this before, Ib. You even went as far as to give me your precious, precious rose. But I'm afraid I have run out of patience with you," he said, casually pulling off another petal. To her right, Ib heard Garry cough in pain. Ib's heart was racing in terror.  
"I mean it this time! Please, _please_, I'll do anything! Don't kill him!" she begged. Guertena looked at the little girl emotionlessly.  
"You have proved to be too disobedient, just as Mary was. I originally admired you for your strong will and fearlessness, but I see now that these were traits that made you harder to control. I will be able to find another daughter, one that is much more pliable." he said offhandedly.

Ib shook her head earnestly. "A daughter isn't something to 'control'! You've got it all backwards! You should love and care for a daughter no matter what kind of girl she is, that's what being a father is about! That's what my father was like..."

Guertena stared at Ib for a moment with a searching expression. A moment later the expression flickered and faded. "I have no desire to be that sort of father. Does a God not desire His creations to worship and praise Him?"

Seeing that she wasn't going to change Guertena's mind, Ib gave in to despair and exhaustion and sank to her knees, warm tears sliding down her cheeks. "Please, just don't kill Garry... Please..." she begged quietly. Guertena looked at her red rose again.

"It is interesting," he said thoughtfully as he played with another petal between his fingers, "I never thought something like this would be possible. It appears that not only did your roses connect- the embodiment of your very _lives_- but your friend has somehow taken all of your pain and doubts onto himself. Your own rose doesn't even hurt you anymore... It just hurts him. It is a strange serendipity, indeed. But foolish. Such a pointless effort... 'The Rose of Sacrifice' always withers away just the same, without being able to save anyone."

Garry glared up at Guertena and chuckled humorlessly. He wiped a bit of blood off his lips with the back of his sleeve.

"It isn't foolish," Garry said fiercely. "It was my choice, and I would make the same decision again. I want to protect what is dear to me. And I'll happily die one-hundred times if it means keeping Ib safe." Garry looked at Ib with a sweet smile. "I mean it. I don't have any regrets." he said to her.

Ib couldn't find words to express anything she was feeling. She reached through the bars for Garry's hand, and he followed her lead, grasping her hand tightly in his.  
"We're always going to be together, no matter what," Garry promised, and Ib smiled through the tears, believing his words with all her heart.

Another red rose petal was pulled, and Garry fell to the ground of the cell, but managed to hold onto Ib's hand. Ib's eyes widened in horror. "Garry! No, please, don't-!"  
"It's okay," Garry said with his usual smile. "I'm happy that we were able to make so many memories together. No one can erase those, no matter how hard they try," he said confidently.

The last petal fell. Garry closed his eyes.

His hand became limp in Ib's; he looked so peaceful, as if he was in a pleasant slumber. Ib felt strange. She expected tears to flow, but she almost felt as if there were no tears left. She merely stared at Garry's lifeless form for what seemed like an eternity, until Guertena's voice snapped her back into reality.

"How interesting," the artist said quietly, "Your rose is destroyed, but you still live. I would think that your friend's love for you is what keeps you alive. Miraculous, it survived even in death. Human beings are curious creatures, are we not?"  
Ib didn't answer. She squeezed Garry's hand one last time and pulled away. She willed herself to stand, holding onto the bars of the cage to ensure she stayed upright. Guertena observed his painting behind them. "Soon, my world will engulf everything," he said, somewhat excitedly. "You should count yourself lucky to be the only person able to see it occur."  
"No..." Ib murmured.  
Guertena looked at her. "What was that, my dear? Speak up."  
"No." Ib said, louder this time. "You aren't achieving anything. You're just a miserable, delusional man who will never be happy."

Guertena's eyes burned. "Is that so?" he challenged, but Ib wasn't afraid.  
"You'll never, ever have anything close to what I have with Garry. Our bond is so strong, you couldn't even find a way to stop us."

Guertena chuckled good-naturedly. "Beg pardon?" He gestured to the red rose petals scattered at his feet. "I believe I already snuffed out your beloved friend. He is dead."  
"He's alive in me," Ib insisted. She felt invigorated somehow, and felt as though her energy was returning to her. Her scarlet eyes flashed at Guertena defiantly. "You can kill us both, but our bond is still stronger than your fake world." She thought she felt the ground rumbling again, but she didn't care. Guertena looked furious, if not slightly unsettled by her words. "Be silent." he warned venomously.

"You'll end up all alone," Ib continued, "with no one to love you. All alone, in your fake world. I almost feel sorry for you! Garry really, truly loved me, and I love him! More than anything! You can't take that away from us!" The ground started to shake harder, and Guertena looked at the ground in alarm; it was then that Ib realized that for once, he wasn't the cause.

The ground under the painting 'The True World' suddenly cracked, and green, delicate tendrils started climbing through the cracks and began to rapidly spread over the painting. Guertena blanched. "What in the-" he started trying to pull the dark green vines from his masterpiece, but where one vine broke, two more took its place. Some of the vines began getting bigger, extending upwards and growing leaves and thorns. It appeared to be growing into a rose bush.

Guertena had no choice but to retreat from the savage vines and branches. The bush was becoming so giant, the larger branches were beginning to rip and tear the canvas of the painting. Enraged, Guertena summoned countless dark hands; from the shadows they pounced upon the rose bush, but each one recoiled and faded into nothingness when they came into contact with its strong branches, as if they were being deflected by an unseen force.

Its thorns continued to damage the painting relentlessly, and as a final effort, several massive thorny branches rose from the center of the bush and tore the painting asunder, flinging pieces of it in every direction.

The great artist Guertena fell to his knees. His orange rose fell entirely to pieces. Ib stared at the man in surprise... She almost thought that he was smiling at her fondly before his body faded away, leaving only orange rose petals in its wake.

The stone vines caging Ib and Garry suddenly cracked, crumbling to dust all around her. Realizing that she was free, Ib flew to Garry's side. With some effort, Ib managed to roll Garry onto his back, resting his head in her lap. She gently brushed the hair from his eyes. Tears blurred her vision, but she bit her bottom lip and willed them away. "I think we did it, Garry," she said, sniffling. "Thank you for... Everything..." Struggling not to cry, Ib leaned down and left a gentle kiss on Garry's mouth. Despite her previous efforts, the girl dissolved into tears.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there with Garry. She wasn't even sure if she was still in Guertena's version of the world, or if everything had returned to normal. At this moment in time, she didn't particularly care. Regardless, she searched the ground for the remains of the depleted roses. To her surprise, she and Garry's roses were gone.

Movement from the giant rose bush caught Ib's attention. She hadn't noticed it before, but there were countless rosebuds nestled within the large branches. One bud, however, loomed over the others just in the center of the bush, and it was stirring. It appeared it was starting to bloom.

Ib watched the bud with large eyes; in a few short moments, it had bloomed into the most beautiful rose she had ever seen. It was deep purple in color, with giant but delicate velvet petals.

As if they had all been waiting for a cue, the other smaller buds opened up, revealing countless purple roses, all varying in size.

Ib was so entranced by the sight that she started badly when she heard a sudden cough, and her chest rushed with happiness as she saw Garry shift. Her voice almost failed her. "G-Garry...?" she said faintly, unbelievingly.  
Garry groaned, slowly opening his eyes. "Augh... I feel horrible..." he said groggily, his eyes glancing around before falling on Ib's glowing face above him. He blinked at her, his cheeks flushing. "Uhh... Ib? What's going on? And... How did I end up in your lap?" he asked, sitting up awkwardly. Without a word, Ib threw her arms around Garry's neck and hugged him more tightly than she ever had, crying into his coat.

As Garry was busy comforting Ib and trying to learn what exactly had transpired, a faint, translucent outline of a girl approached the rose bush behind them, neatly tying a pretty yellow ribbon onto the stem of the large purple rose. She vanished as quickly as she came, unnoticed by the two happy people and their tearful reunion.


	7. Chapter 7: Always

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_Always_

Through joyous tears, Ib told Garry everything that had happened, and how the massive rose bush had saved them. When she looked at where the bush had been, however, it was no longer there, and the cracks in the floor were also missing. In it's place was a single purple rose, laying on the floor of the room, a yellow ribbon tied smartly around it's stem. A sudden noise from the other side of the door startled the two out of their confusion, and when the door swung open they were almost positive they were going to find themselves face-to-face with more danger.

A flashlight swept the room and fell on the girl and young man. It was a night security guard of the museum; He was initially furious that Ib and Garry were in the museum after hours, but the two of them looked so dazed by his sudden appearance, he allowed them to explain themselves. Garry apologized profusely for their presence, insisting that they hadn't broken in, and that they were incredibly lost. The guard was suspicious about the validity of their claims, and asked for their information. When Ib gave her name, the guard seemed to be in much brighter spirits; he was a friend of her father. Seeing that everything was in order, the guard allowed them to leave without questioning them further. Ib carried with her the purple rose, holding it close to her heart.

* * *

The town seemed to be back to normal. People and lights and cars were going every which direction, and neither Ib nor Garry had ever been happier to partake in the hustle and bustle of city life. They felt they couldn't completely relax, however; they were still anxious to find Ib's parents, and hoped desperately that they had been released from Guertena's spell just as the rest of the town had been.

Ib's house was a long way away from the museum, but thankfully they caught the very last bus of the night. As soon as they got off at their stop, the two hurried to Ib's house.  
Flinging the front door open, Ib and Garry were greeted by a frightening sight; Ib's parents were laying on the floor of the foyer, as if they had fainted. Ib was on them instantly, gently shaking her mother awake. Garry worriedly felt for a pulse on her father; to his relief, they appeared to only be sleeping.  
"Mom? Papa?" Ib said gently, and her mother's eyes fluttered open easily. "Wha- Ib? What... What happened?" her mother said, struggling to sit up. Ib helped her, and saw that Garry had managed to wake up her father, as well. "What in the world...? Did we... Fall asleep down here?" her father asked groggily, looking at his wife, and then to Ib and Garry. His eyes suddenly widened. "Is everyone alright? Ib, honey, are you okay? We didn't get robbed, did we?" he asked in a panic, and Ib smiled, shaking her head. "No, dad, everything's fine. We're all fine. How are _you _feeling?"

Her father rubbed the back of his head, trying to think. "I feel... Tired. But awake, too. It's... _Strange_. Honey? How do you feel?"  
"The same," Ib's mother admitted with an embarrassed laugh. "We must be sick. I knew it... We must have caught something. But look at us," she said, standing up with Ib's help and brushing off her skirt. "We must have given you a fright. I'm so sorry, Ib," she said, stroking her daughter's hair. Ib felt like she could cry, and she hugged her mother fiercely. "Don't apologize, I'm just glad you're okay," the little girl said earnestly.

Ib's mother and father apologized again to their daughter and Garry, and thanked Garry for looking after their little girl. They decided to adjourn to bed, as they were still feeling very under the weather, and Ib's father kissed her forehead before saying goodnight. When they were safely upstairs, Ib let out a massive sigh of relief. "It's them." she said happily. "That's really them. They must have all of their memories back, too."

"I'm glad. And look," Garry pointed at the staircase, "there seems to be a missing portrait."

It was true; 'Self-Portrait' was gone. The wall looked incredibly bare without it.

Garry sighed. "It seems like everyone's okay. Except..." Garry patted his coat, and pulled out a big yellowed piece of sketch paper.  
"Mary!" Ib exclaimed, and they both observed the paper anxiously. It was just as torn as before, and Mary still appeared to be sleeping. Ib frowned.  
"I don't think I can go to sleep with her like this," Ib said sadly, and Garry carefully folded the paper up again. "Me either," he admitted. He glanced at the door to the storage under the stairs, and smiled. "Say... Do you think you have any empty picture frames laying around?" he asked, and Ib beamed back at him happily.

The two of them rummaged around in the storage closet for close to twenty minutes before Garry nearly tripped over a large frame that was just the perfect size for Mary's sketch. Clearing a work space on the dining room table, Ib gathered supplies- glue and tape, mostly- and Garry set to work repairing the damage done to the sketch. Garry had a wonderful attention to detail and an ideal finesse for this sort of work, so Ib merely watched him quietly, breaking once to find an empty vase for the purple rose. She placed the vase on the table with them, admiring it until Garry finished. Garry placed Mary carefully in the frame.

Deciding to hang it in the unoccupied stairwell, Garry gently hammered a nail in place and hung it carefully. Both Ib and Garry half-expected Mary to open her eyes and come back to life, but her form remained unmoving, her hands folded delicately at her chest, her expression tranquil.

Ib yawned and rubbed her eyes; she never remembered being quite so tired. She and Garry sat on the staircase, both of them vainly fighting sleep and determined to stay with Mary a bit longer. Ib's head finally slumped onto Garry's shoulder, and before Garry could even entertain the idea of carrying the sleeping girl to a fitting place for slumber, he nodded off as well.

* * *

Ib was awakened by the morning sun falling over her face, and the merry singing of birds outside. Upon opening her eyes, she was relieved to find that she was exactly where she had been when she had fallen asleep. She felt sore, however, and realized that stairs were not the smartest choice for a good nights rest. Garry was leaning against her, still very much asleep, and Ib smiled warmly at the sight. Careful not to wake him, Ib went and checked the time. It was still very early... And it appeared no time had passed for the rest of the world since they had been gone, as it was only the morning after they had first found themselves in the world of Guertena's creation.

Heading back to the stairs to wake up Garry, she found that he was already getting up when she arrived. He grinned at her sleepily, stretching.

"I was worried for a second, when I didn't see you there. But everything feels so normal, I knew it was alright," he ended in a yawn, and Ib smiled.

"Sorry for making you worry. I decided I'm going to school today... And I'm going to make us breakfast!" she announced.

Ib (with some help from Garry, although she was exceedingly determined to make it all on her own,) made enough breakfast for everyone, and decided to surprise her parents with breakfast in bed. Both of them apologized to her again for not waking up in time to make her breakfast themselves.  
"It's so strange... I feel like I've been sleeping for years, but yet I'm still so tired." her mother explained, bewildered. Ib smiled at them brightly. "Don't worry about it," she said, handing them napkins. "Rest as much as you want today. Today, I'm going to be your mom! I'll make dinner, too, okay? For Garry, too!"  
Her parents both agreed, and promised to take her and Garry somewhere fun in return, when they were feeling better. Ib couldn't have cared less for something like that... She was just overjoyed to have them both here with her, and in one piece.

Getting dressed and ready for school, Ib flew down the stairs where Garry was waiting. Grabbing her book bag, she headed for the door, looking back at Garry with a smile. "Ready to go?" she chimed, but stopped in concern when she saw Garry unmoving from his position, looking almost sad. Her brow dipped in worry.

"Garry? Are you okay?" she asked him, walking briskly to him and standing on her tip-toes, touching his face gently with her hand. "Are you feeling sick?"

Garry looked down at the girl, nodding vaguely. "No, I..." He almost looked like he could cry.

Garry suddenly swept Ib up in a warm embrace, holding her close. Ib blushed, not having expected it.  
"I want it to always be like this," Garry said quietly, his mouth close to the girl's ear. "I want to always see you happy and smiling, and I want to keep spending time with you, just like this."

Ib almost didn't know what to say, but before she could get the chance, Garry pulled away, scratching the back of his head with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry... I guess, after everything, I got a little emotional." he admitted, his face flushing.

Smiling, Ib shook her head. "Don't be sorry," she said sincerely. "I have something to tell you, too."

"Oh?" Garry inquired, hoping that whatever it was would take the focus off of his outburst. "What's that?"  
Ib shook her finger at him. "I'll tell you," she said with a cheeky smile, "when I'm a little older. Okay?"

Garry mulled over her words carefully for a moment, and then his face turned an even darker shade. "I see," he said, coughing into his hand. He smiled at her then. "I'll wait for you to tell me, then." he said with resolve. "No matter how long it takes."

Ib happily grabbed Garry's hand, and the two of them left the house together, closing the door after them.

A pretty girl behind a glass frame had heard the whole happy conversation. Her eternal sleeping form had changed very subtly from the previous night; on her face was a content smile, and between her neatly folded hands was a yellow rose, adorned with a lovely red and blue ribbon.

.

.

.

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_Fin_

_Additional Author Notes:_

Thank you so much for reading my Ib fanfiction!

I can't tell you how fun it was to write, and I'm actually sad it's over. I hope I was able to capture the feelings of the game we all love, as well as add new elements that still make it unique.

I apologize if this messed with anyone's head canon for certain characters! (Guertena in particular.) The character of Weiss Guertena was so passionate and mysterious to me in the game, this is just how he came out.  
I don't see him as an 'evil' character, but a character lost in his passion and overwhelmed with power and loneliness. In the flower language, the orange rose symbolizes desire and passion, which worked WAY too well for his character, also. He was very fun to write.

This fanfiction was meant to cater to both sides of the fandom; IbxGarry lovers, and those who prefer their relationship to be strictly 'brother and sister'. I myself think that both options are adorable for them, and mostly wanted to write a story about how much they mean to each other, all romance aside. I hope I did a good job conveying that. (But I do ship them, shhhhhh~)

If you couldn't guess, a purple rose is a symbol of protection, and love. (And it also happens the be the color that happens when you combine red and blue. Hurr durr) I think that speaks for itself!

Thank you again for reading my fanfic. ღ


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